


Three Years Later

by missyukisakura



Category: BBC The Musketeers, The Musketeers
Genre: F/M, Gen, milathos, sylthos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-05 02:54:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10295834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missyukisakura/pseuds/missyukisakura
Summary: After Treville's death, Athos' friends dispersed to attend their own duties. Aramis became the First Minister, close to his son and the woman that he loves. Porthos leads the country to war as General du Vallon. And D'artagnan becomes the Captain of The Musketeers. While him? He took a vacation, a well-deserved one, and started a peaceful life with Sylvie and their child.What else could possibly go wrong, right?





	1. The Woman

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. 
> 
> Excuse the grammatical and typographical error. I have not proof-read them. Any constructive criticisms are welcomed. o/ 
> 
> Yay for my first ever milathos fic!

It has been a peaceful 3 years of his life, and Athos couldn't have asked for it any other way. Sylvie has given him the happiness that he deserves and Athos believes that he's now living a content life. It was simple, less adventurous, obviously, but at least he's happy. He's happy to wake up every morning, seeing Sylvie laying beside him, with her face buried against his chest, an arm around his body and her heart, beating gently together with his.

 

It was the life that he once tasted and was taken away from him. And he's never felt so happy to have it back.

 

Twice a week, the couple would visit the market to buy food. Sylvie has opened a small establishment wherein she teaches people how to read and right. With the support of the queen, of course. Their daughter would be with her. At night, the place will be dark and Athos would then be snuggled with Sylvie, together with their daughter, while he reads both of them a bed time story. It has been a good replacement for alcohol.   
  
It was their routine.   
  
One Sunday morning, while Athos and Sylvie were in the market, a glimpse of a scent caught Athos' attention. Sylvie was busy with shopping so Athos slipped away discreetly. He followed the scent, a familiar string of memory tugging him along and pulling his feet to come and follow. And then he saw  _ her _ .   
  
She's as beautiful as ever.   
  
Time stopped when she looked up at him and the way that she smiled brought back feelings he thought he has gotten rid of. Like  **longing for her** , surprisingly. This wasn't just some odd coincidence,  _ she lured him here _ . Heaviness cloaked his face once more and without trying to hide his distaste, he walked aggressively towards her and pulled her up by the arm until they're staring directly into each other's eyes.   
  
"What are you doing here?!" He hissed. Milady looked surprised, of course, but she didn't show any resistance. Tension started to build up on the crowd around them.   
"I'm visiting a friend." she answered calmly.   
"A friend?" Athos scoffed, but he only tightened his grip on her "and you expect me to believe you? What are you REALLY doing here?"   
Milady grunted when Athos’ grip tightens on her arm. She tried to pull her arm away, of course, to no avail. "You're hurting me, Athos."    
"You didn't answer my question"   
"I came for you."   
  
Silence.   
  
Athos felt the thick sea of eyes surrounding him, but his eyes were still glued on Milady.   
  
"Athos?"    
  
Sylvie's voice echoes through the pub, like a glass, shattering on the floor. Athos let go of Milady's arm, but not without shooting a threatening glare at her.   
  
"What's going on?" Sylvie asked as Athos joined her. But instead of answering, he just wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her along. He was quiet the whole way home, not even answering Sylvie's questions nor showing interest when Sylvie tried to change the topic.    
  
Night came and Athos proceeded to avoid talking about  _ the woman _ . He spent his afternoon with his daughter, watching over Sylvie as she gathers a group of people to teach. And at night, he lay down with the two most important women of his life until they both fell asleep.   
  
Then he sneaked out to go back to the pub.   
  
She wasn't there anymore, and Athos cannot deny the disappointment that sucked on his chest. But what else did he expect? Milady wasn't the kind who stays in one place. He took a seat by the bar, took one bottle of wine and poured himself a glass but he never touched it. For three years, since he married Sylvie, Athos never touched an alcohol, he never saw the need for one.   
  
The whole day, Milady ran around his mind. He couldn't shake off the thought that she came here for him. But why? What does she want this time? Money? Information? What could she possibly want from him? He's a mere farmer now; a shitty one, but he's learning.   
  
Then it hit him.  _ Revenge. _

Sylvie and his daughter.    
  
Thinking of himself an idiot, Athos ran out of the pub and hurried back to his house. Everything is just as he left it, or so, that’s how it has felt. His house is small and humble and if something is amiss, he would have spotted it right away. He went to the bedroom to check on his wife and daughter and in doing so, he stirred the atmosphere and Sylvie woken up. Confused as to why he was looking so disheveled, the woman sat up, rubbed her eyes and tilted her head. "Athos?" She asked with caution "what's wrong?"   
  
Athos felt his knees weaken that he had to hold onto the walls to stop himself from falling.    
  
"Athos?"   
  
Kneeling on the side of the bed, he finally let himself fall on Sylvie's lap.   
  
"I thought she went to you. I thought she came back to hurt you." He breathed "I..."   
  
Sylvie cupped his face and shush him, running her hand through his hair in an attempt to calm him down. Athos took in a deep breath before burying his face on Sylvie's stomach.

 

“The woman from earlier. I've seen her a couple of years ago.” Sylvie said “she came to the settlement, looked at the pamphlets I was giving away to the people, and then left.” 

“Did she say anything else?” Athos, who still had his head buried on her stomach, asked.

“No. She just left.” Sylvie shrugged “I kept thinking earlier where I have seen her, she's quite familiar. Then I remembered her from before.” She then looked down at Athos and started playing with his hair. “Why were you so worried she'd come after me and our daughter?”

 

Athos sighed heavily. He thought about it for a while before finally looking up at Sylvie. He never told her about Milady. In his stories, she was just his ex wife. The woman who he once loved but has lied and tricked him. He never told Sylvie about how dangerous this woman is, he just buried that fact down under his new happy memories.

 

“She's a dangerous woman. And she said she'd come for me.” He started. “She's a skilled assassin and crossing paths with her means nothing but danger. She's a curse. And I don't want you and our daughter anywhere within her reach.” 

 

“I know how to protect us.” Sylvie said with determination.

  
“And I know you can” Athos got up and kissed Sylvie. “And she would have to get through me before she can touch you and Anne.”


	2. Dreams and Paranoia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Milady's sudden presence brought back things from the past that Athos thought he had gotten rid of three years ago. Feeling the intense need to protect his family at all cost, is he also endangering his relationship with them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while, I'm so sorry!
> 
> The first chapter was written as a "drabble" and was supposed to end the way it had ended. I don't know why but somehow, I felt this need to write a part 2. And from that thought, and a couple of brainstorming with my nephew (he's 13 and knows nothing about the series so I had to tell him the origin of milathos and he has been very patient with me and very helpful too), we came up with a little something. Quite different from what I'd expect from a post-series milathos fic. Don't hold your breath for a happy ending coz I, myself, am not sure how this will end and how long it would take. 
> 
> So here is chapter 2. I hope you guys would enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

It was a rainy night, the midwife took ages to come that Athos almost yelled the soul out of the old lady when she did arrive. He was asked to stay out of the room, (for obvious reasons; that he’s more anxious than Sylvie and was more likely to pass out. Not to mention, his temper was scaring the midwife) so he _“patiently”_ waited outside. Pressing his head on the wall and listening to Sylvie’s cries. Then there was a brief silence, which made his heart stop all the same. But before Athos could barge back in the room, he heard the baby’s cry. His baby.

With slow, careful steps, he walked in. His eyes, on the little crying baby that’s now resting on Sylvie’s arm. Tears rolled down Athos’ cheeks before he could even stop them. His child. His daughter. With caution, he took the baby into his arms and for a moment, the infant stopped crying. As if she felt the presence of a new person, as if she recognizes him. Then she went on with her business of crying.

 

“Anne”

 

Sylvie’s voice, though weak, came clearer above the surface of the crying baby.

Athos tore his eyes away from the crying baby in his arms. He opened his mouth to speak, to say the name, _her name_ , but no sound came out.

Sylvie mistook his reaction and thought it adorable, chuckling softly. “Name her Anne.”

“Anne? Why- Why?”  _Why, of all name...?_

“Why not?” she chuckled, thinking lightly of the situation.

“How about…” he cannot think of a name. Her name is stuck in his head, and so does her face. _She’s so beautiful, and so happy…_

 “I like Anne. It bears lightness in it.”

 

He doesn’t. Lightness has nothing to do with Anne. His memory of Anne, of that girl that he had loved so much, that girl that gave him relief, that made him feel more than he thought he could possibly feel. She _indeed_ brought him lightness, but she also took the light out of his life. She came crashing to him, brighter than the sun. That when she was taken away… no- When he _got rid of her_ , he was blinded. And so, he was left with nothing.

 

“How about Clara?” _It means light…_ Maybe, he can persuade Sylvie with a different name?

“Clara Anne?”

“No.. just Clara.” Not _Anne_ “Okay, how about ...” _Anne_. His face distorts as he struggles to think of a name. Suddenly, all names seem to have slipped out of his head and the only name he knows is Anne. But… he can’t possibly name his daughter Anne. No.

“Why won’t you drop the Anne?”

“Why won’t you accept Anne?” Sylvie’s lips tugged at a small smile “Athos, I’m not having an argument over our daughter’s name. Let’s name her Clara Anne.”

 _No_.

“Please?”

“Sylvie…”

“When I was young, my grandmother always tell me a story about a young girl named Anne.” _Oh, now there’s a story…_ “It will be a collection of different stories, I think my grandma made them all up. But Anne would always be the subject of them all. And I adore her dearly.”

Athos sighed. _Well I have a story about a girl named Anne as well. I loved her, then I killed her._

“It’s just a name, Athos. Why does it trouble you so much?” there’s lightness in Sylvie’s voice. The one that Athos has learned to like. She has the ability to turn any situation light. Their daughter should be named after her.

“A name can bear a thousand memories.” he finally answered, handling Sylvie their daughter. He took a towel and wiped Sylvie’s forehead. Sylvie looked up at him expectantly. He wonders if she was waiting for him to explain, to tell a story as well. _I loved a girl once_ he wanted to say _she died by my hands_. His hand trembled as he put down the towel.

Sighing, Athos leaned down and kissed Sylvie’s forehead. “But if Anne would make you happy…” he touches the cheek of his daughter with the back of his finger, the infant smiled and he felt his heart melt. “Then Anne it would be.”

 

He allowed himself to smile. But just as he did, he noticed something out of the corner of his eyes. Something that he never noticed there before.

 

Overlooking from their window, is a tree. It stands alone in the middle of a clearing, for everyone to see. He felt a tight knot at the bottom of his stomach as he stands up to get a better look. Looking closer, he noticed something hanging by the branch of the tree. Something long, something white, like a dress…

“No.”

“Athos?”

 

Athos woke up, sweat forming on his forehead. He met Sylvie’s eyes, and by the edge of the bed is Anne, his daughter’s eyes wide and green and terrified.

“You were crying in your sleep.” Sylvie said, wiping his hair off of his face. Her eyes were full of question, questions that Athos couldn’t even fathom to answer in his head.

 

The first night that the dreams had stopped coming was the first night he slept with Sylvie. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was _distracted_ with her or if it was beyond something that only Aramis would be fit to say out loud. But he was thankful for it’s absence. Sylvie is good to him, and is good _for_ him. She’s like the antidote to the poison that has eaten him for the past ten years.

 

“Bad dream” he grunted, rolling out of the bed to walk to his daughter. His eyes smiled though his lips barely moved. “I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to frighten you.” He kneeled in front of Anne and run a finger along her cheeks. Anne smiled and Athos picked her up.

 

It first started the night when he saw Milady in that pub. Since then, the dreams had visited him every night. Waking up in the middle of the night, sweaty, panting and crying. The dream would start with the birth of his child, relieving the scenario of that night. And just like a twisted game of fate, his happiness will be clouded by a memory that he unwillingly hooked to that night. He would notice the tree. He would struggle to run to the tree but he would never make it. He would try and cry out her name but no sound would come out. Before he reaches her, something heavy would pull him out and suck him backwards. Then he would hear Sylvie calling him. That’s when he would wake up.

Sylvie believes the dreams are caused by stress. Though Athos never tells her the details; he never mentions the night that she gave birth, the tree, the dress, _her_. His explanation would always only be ‘Bad dream. Just a bad dream.’

 

A couple of days had passed and there had been no sign of Milady since that day in the pub. Nonetheless, Athos was tireless in being alert and keeping his guard up for his family. He never let Sylvie and Anne out of his sight, neither does he let any of them go alone without him.

 

“Athos…” Sylvie had said one day after her class. “You don’t have to do this. You’re growing circles under your eyes, you’re as bad as the first time I met you.” Once again, there’s that chime of laughter in her voice. Athos smiled at her.

“I don’t care. As long as I can keep you safe.” he answered.

“But we’re safe. And she’s gone. It has been weeks. Give yourself a break.” she cupped his cheek and ran her thumb against his skin.

 

Athos wanted to believe Sylvie, he wanted to believe her so bad that when she cupped his cheek, he leaned in on her touch, closed his eyes and in his head, chanted a little prayer. But he still cannot let his thoughts rest.

 

“There’s a reason why she came, Sylvie. And I cannot rest until I found out that reason.” he sighed, finally opening his eyes.

 

Of all people, he thought that Sylvie would understand, but the way that she looked at him says otherwise. A sigh escaped Sylvie’s lips, and with the way that she lowered and shake her head, Athos knew that she would insist that he takes a rest.

 

“How are you supposed to find that out when she’s not even here?” Athos hinted an edge at Sylvie’s voice, it wasn’t something new but it was also something unfamiliar to him. “You’re scaring my students, Athos. They’re anxious that danger is waiting for them, with the way that you looked around. The way that you... you looked.” There’s a pause that Athos can only recognize as hesitation. Sylvie had weighed her words and knew that it would offend him. He did feel offended. He was only ensuring the safety of his family, was he really that bad?

 

Defeated, he let out a sigh and nodded. Sylvie kissed his lips and he smiled at her.

 

His daughter was playing with the other kids but when Sylvie came back to resume her class, little Anne ran to the front of the class and took her seat, eager to learn just like everyone else. Athos allowed himself a smile before turning his back.

 

Athos could have easily believed Sylvie if only he hadn’t seen and touched Milady _that day_. But he did. And milady had said that she was there for Athos. Was it all a bluff? A lie? Did she just say that to shock him? Why?

  
_Why?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This second chapter took a while because it wasn't supposed to turn out this way. LMFAO. I had a different plan for this chapter, without any vision for the next one whatsoever, but once I've written it all out, it felt like I should end it this way and push the one I had in mind for the next chapter.
> 
> I *honestly* didn't expect that naming his daughter "Anne" would have gathered reactions (whether they're good or bad, I'm not entirely sure tbh.) But it came in late, as a realization, that it should have been something that I have thought of before hitting that publish button. I first came up with it with that thought that Sylvie named their daughter, that she's always the one listing names when she was pregnant. Not that Athos wasn't to involved in their little family, but it's just that Sylvie gave me the impression that she would be the one naming their daughter and Athos would be agreeing with her. It's just that, it happens to be Anne.
> 
> Naming his daughter "Anne" pulls my heartstring, but I'm gonna save that for later chapters.
> 
> PS: once again, I have not proof-read this yet and I'm sorry for any typographical and grammatical errors (cringes. bec i'm still editing chapter 1 yeah. x _ x )  
> PPS: The next chapter shouldn't come too late- but I'm a slow writer orz.


	3. Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's something that you should know about Athos, if you hadn't known that yet. He makes terrible life decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit lengthy than the others, and took me a while as well. I was experiencing this thing called writer's block; so no, I've not been busy. I actually had too much time on my hand. Too much time to think, too much time to realize things. But finally, (thank God) this chapter is here.

A glass turned into a bottle. A bottle turned into a couple more. And then he’s being dragged out of the pub to his waiting wife at home. The distress on her face was washed away by relief, only to be replaced by disappointment. She gently ran a warm cloth over his face.  
It felt good.  
She felt good.  
She’s so beautiful.

The hangover that came the morning after reminded Athos of what he had done the night before. For three years, he never had a drop of alcohol in his throat. For three years, he has been contended, happy; too busy, too distracted for alcohol. But maybe, it was only what that is; a distraction. The happiness, the contentment, it was nothing but a distraction. A front to hide all the terrible things he has done to the only woman he ever loved.

Sylvie wasn't home anymore when he woke up, and neither is his daughter. Three-year old Anne is inseparable from her mother.

_Anne._

Once again, Milady invaded his thoughts. Like an unwelcome guest, barging in and letting herself comfortable in his house. She'd touch his wounds, slice them open and watch him bleed for all her amusement. Once again, he's thinking about her and the mystery of her, suddenly popping in this town, telling him that she came to see him, and then disappearing right after without any explanation. Though he'll never admit it, he blames himself for losing his temper and not listening to her. Just like that day of three years ago, when she came back and showed herself to him. When Sylvie's name left her lips and he had snapped and wrapped his hand, his fingers tightly around her neck. How terrified she had looked, but despite the fear, she was still able to spit back fire. Igniting his anger by taunting him. That has always been her nature, he should have known, to put up her defenses when she's being attacked. But how was he supposed to react to her? When a murderess like her spoke the name of the woman that he love; what else was be supposed to think?

  
He has to move on, Athos told himself. Sylvie was right and it has been days. _Weeks_. He has to move on, get back to work and earn a living for once. He hates the farm and he terribly miss the garrison, the action, the adrenaline. And most of all, his friends. But this is what puts the food in their stomachs, and his daughter can grow up with a father. So this is what he's settling to do.

The last time he has sent a letter to them was after Anne was born. They have moved from one town to another then. Sylvie had asked Athos if he wanted to go back to being a Musketeer and he said he wanted to watch his daughter grow up, and spend his nights beside his wife. Without worrying her if he'll come back to her in one piece or in a box. He didn't inform d’Artagnan about his new address and so, all connection to them had been cut.

Though… maybe, it's time to reconnect once more.

“You're awake.”

Athos has been hugging the bucket of water, dipping his head on it to get rid of the headache, and filling his head with unnecessary thoughts that he didn't notice nor heard Sylvie arrive. She had a couple of things with things with her. Oh right… it's market day today.  
“Papa! You missed market!” Anne barges in, her cheeriful voice sounded like a painful ringing in his head. Athos forced a smile.  
“Papa wasn't feeling well.” Sylvie had said, setting down the bag of what seems to be leaves and fruits on the table.  
“I'm sorry, my love.” He said apologetically to his child.  
“I forgive you papa. Mama and I bought you something that will make you feel better. It doesn't look nice but the old lady at the market said it will help.” She pulled out what looked like a couple of roots, much to Sylvie's horror; her face is a grimaced copy of Athos’.

She's so adorable, he wanted to cry.

“Come now, and let papa rest.” Sylvie said calmly while she takes the roots from Anne. “Go out and play with Estelle, I saw her by her house.” Anne happily complied, but not without kissing her Papa's cheek. Athos smiled softly, his heart, growing a bit warmer. Ah, and he feels a bit better now too.

Sylvie went back to the kitchen sink and started washing the roots. Athos watched her.

“You're not planning on making a soup out of those, right?” He cooed, standing up and walking over to her. “They're disgusting.”

“They're supposed to help.” She said flatly.

Athos noticed the coldness in her voice as well as her actions. He doesn’t need a cold water, or the tea to take away the headache caused by the hangover. Sylvie’s coldness towards him was enough to kick that right under the rug. She didn't look at him nor turn to him. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. But as cold as her answers earlier, she shrugged him away, taking his hands off of her and gently nudging him off.

“You reek of alcohol.” She said with disgust in her tone.

Athos picked up the sign, a little bit too late than Sylvie must have wanted, but he picked it up nonetheless. He took a step back and leaned against the edge of the table instead.  
“I'm sorry.” He muttered.

Sylvie stopped what she was doing, and then there was a pause. Athos anticipated it, hating the silence.

“You kept saying her name.” She said without turning around to look at him. “Milady.”  
Fuck. The atmosphere suddenly felt thick and heavy. And Athos find it hard to breathe despite having his shirt half open. He ran a hand through his face before turning around to eye the bucket. Can he bury his head back in there instead?

But there's silence again, and it dragged on for a couple of seconds before Athos realized that Sylvie wasn't going to say anything anymore, at least none yet.

“I'm… sorry.” He wasn't sure what to say, or if apologizing was even appropriate. Hell, he doesn't even know what he said while he was asleep. Did he mention that 'Anne' used to be Milady's name? Because apparently, that's his _biggest_ fear. For Sylvie to know. For Sylvie to hate him. For Sylvie to lose her trust on him.

“You said you loved her. You said you should have followed her…” Sylvie's voice cracked. “That you regret turning her away when she came back. That you…” _my god Athos, do something. Stop her._ “Regret choosing-” her sobs choked her out and the next thing he knew was that, she's arching down in front of the sink, sobbing and bawling her eyes out.

He wanted to reach out to her, to touch her, to comfort her, but he can't. He felt unworthy of touching her, of looking at her. How dare he hurt her when all she's ever done was love him?

“Sylvie…”  
“Leave.” the word was quick and sharp, and he knew that while it left him numb right now, the pain will slowly sink in later and will last for the longest time possible. Her voice was firm, at the edge of once again, breaking down. She's standing her ground and Athos can see that she needs this moment to herself.

Without a word, he left. Where he's going, he doesn't know.

It was a long walk. Athos realized. As the wind whispered warmth against his cheeks. The birds aren't playing or singing anymore. And the trees had grown thicker. He found himself off track, in the middle of the forest. Will he find his way back? He wasn't sure. And yet, another stupid decision.

Here's something that you should know about Athos, if you hadn't known that yet. He makes **terrible** life decisions. Sure, he was Captain of The Musketeers, and probably a good successor of Treville. He may never admit it but he’s a good Captain. He’s good at being a leader, good at strategies, but he’s terrible at making life decisions. Personal baggage were never his forte. He’d rather deal with criminals, than matters of the heart.

And yet, here he is, with a family.

With big, blue, distracted eyes, Athos turned around back to the direction where he came from. He questions himself whether he should turn back, whether it’s time. He knows that he must. He’s gotten Sylvie worried the night before, and wronged her even more by muttering stupidities while he sleeps. The least he can do was to make things worse, right? But- (there’s always a but) a part of him doesn’t want to. It’s that itch to run away; old habits die hard after all, right? _But_ (there it is again) he was able to rid of his so-called _old habits_ for three years. He was able to stay sober for three years, got himself occupied, learned to swing an ax to a tree instead of a sword to someone else's flesh. He smiled more, by the sight of Sylvie, by the sight of his daughter, by the sight of food.

Emerging from the crowd of trees, approaching him, is a figure of a lady dressed in heavy and luxurious clothing. She wore a hood over her elaborately ruffled dress and a scent that he would never forget, not even in his next life. His head pounded, as if reminding him that he wasn’t dreaming. _“Maybe drunk, but not dreaming”_ she had said some time ago, maybe it has been years, but the memory is etched in him.

“You always look so… glum.” her voice was rough, scratching his cheek, his chest, his thighs; reminding him that she doesn’t need to touch him in order to hurt him. She walked closer, the casualty of her words still hanging by that curl on her lips. “But that’s your charm, isn’t it Athos?”

As if being triggered by how she spoke his name, an indescribable surge of energy washed over Athos, allowing him to blink and to realize that he has been clenching his jaw and holding his breath since he first laid his eyes on her.

“What are you doing here,” though far from it, accusations were already being thrown. Words being said through gritted teeth sure made them sound more threatening than they were meant to be. But Athos wouldn’t have said it otherwise. "Milady?"


End file.
